Posts Tagged ‘playa police’

It Was A Nice Twenty Four Hours

August 29, 2013

While it lasted.

And then it was gone.

Back on baby duty.

I am here at the camp and Burning Man is truly getting it on tonight.

There are fifteen different sound systems competing with my thoughts as I sit here in the “front yard” in a camp rocking chair close to the trailer keeping one ear cocked toward the baby sleeping inside.

El Pulpo Mechanico just went by.

Surreal and wonderful, mechanical octopus with flames spouting out the tips of its eight legs waving up and down, draped with women in Steam Punk attire heading to the Steam Punk Rave at the French Quarter tonight, which is in the neighborhood.

I can look across the street and see the back side of the four-story facade they erected.

I have to admit I am pretty crashed out.

I woke up at 7:30 a.m. and never went back to bed.

Nor did I take a nap and I should have.

I was just too awake when I woke up.

I sprang from the bed and went to the port-a-potties to do my thing and on the walk back I just felt alive and good and here and I wanted to go to the commissary and have breakfast, I was hungry.

I figured I would take a nap before going back on duty this evening at six p.m.


Ah, oh well, I am tired, that is for certain, but I did tell the folks I would stay back and watch the camp and mind the baby and sigh.

“You are not getting paid enough!” Two of my friends now have said that.

I wonder.

I mean I have not raised my rates since I started doing this six years ago, and I do feel pretty well taken care of, at this point I don’t give a fuck.

I don’t feel like there actually exists another world outside of the one I am currently in.

The dust, the wood smoke, the girls in their hot pants and high boots prancing about in pasties or less.  The art, the noise, the squawk of the announcer at Slut Garden moderating the sexual olympics, the disco mashed up with the techno mixed with the tired in my body.

There is no where else.

I keep thinking I am going to try to do some work or schedule a time to move into my place when I get back to SF and my brain just fades off, caught by the sight of a boy spanking a girl with a monkey spatula in the middle of the street.

Held back from the world outside by the playa police who insist I stop and pay attention to all the things around me.


playa policing

I have to say, it is the surrealist blog I have ever written.

Usually I am in the trailer writing and the world does drift off enough to allow me to concentrate on words and syntax and story.

But that’s really challenging when bicycles dripping with glowing flowers are gliding by or hula hoops webbed with ribbons roll across the street or when I look out toward the nine o’clock plaza and see a giant ship’s mast rising up from the skyline.

It’s hard to concentrate on what I want to say.

A few times I have contemplated not posting the blog or putting up the photographs, but then there’s nap time and I am without something to do and attached to the trailer and I will open up the laptop (which is so covered with stickers that it’s easy to see where I have been spending my down time) and find myself doing some photo editing or scrolling through the ones I already took looking for a gem to crop and post.

Speaking of photographs I went to hang out with the Pin Hole Camera crew, but they had a day tucked into their camp developing film.

I hung out at my old camp instead, seeing Mrs. Fishkin, and Nurse and Sister Sister, Magee and Wild Bill, Erica, and Curley.

It was so nice to catch up with my people.

Mrs. Fishkin and I went to the cafe and had coffees–seems so long ago but it was only twelve hours ago.

A floating peacock just slid by down the road.

Aside–I don’t know if it’s being on playa or what it does to my taste buds, but man, my tea tastes spectacular out here, richer, more robust, more flavorful.  It’s like the best tasting tea in the world.

I had lunch with a dear friend at the Commissary and we shared some growth moments and struggles we have been both going through, getting re-grounded to go back out and tackle the jobs at hand.

There is a live horn band really laying it down over yonder.

That would be nice, get out and see some more music.

I did not get out too far into the playa to see art today, but I did catch a few pieces.

Penny the Goose

Penny the Goose

Art Car

Art Car



I stayed close to camp, it was too hot to go far a foot and my bicycle got another flat tire.  It apparently needs a different size tube.  I tried to swing by the playa bike fix it shop to pick one up but it was a mob scene and I could not bear to wait in line.

And I saw my first wine bong as well as being offered my first wine bong.

“No thanks, I am working tonight,” I said.

“Oh just do a little one!” The person replied.

No such thing as a little wine bong.

“I can’t I am allergic to alcohol, but thank you so much for the offer, enjoy!” I added and went to seek out a sparkling water.

“Wow, that sucks, well, at least you can do other things,” the person offered in commiseration.

I smiled and kept my response to myself, there are no other things for me, I won’t be making a midnight run to the herb camp either.

Ah, I am sleepy, and getting cold, the temperature just dropped a few degrees.

Time to stoke the fire, stretch and put on another layer.

I probably have another two hours before going off duty.

Let me not to think about that.

I am just going to keep watching the pretty lights go drifting by.

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